My lips trembled; I clamped them together. Over the years, my mother’s memory had been a source of comfort. Now, that had been blown to smithereens, and the loss was more than I could bear.
Hazel didn’t seem all that sure of herself as she went on. “I can’t speak for your mother or what she felt for Halvard. But she couldn’t have tricked him. Your mother was two months pregnant when she met with me to perform the spell. She would’ve been showing by the time she reached your village. No man, unless he were a simpleton, would fail to realize the child wasn’t his.”
I wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry. “He knew …”
“Yes. He raised you and married your mother, anyway.”
An upsurge of love and pride flooded me. “He kept us safe.”
I got a nod in response. “And as for abandoning Dain, he was the one desperate for your mother to strip your magic and flee.”
My mood took another fierce nosedive. “Why didn’t he go with her?”
“You were conceived at a very volatile time. Morgan was still only a witch in the Crescent, but she was quickly gaining in power and control by stirring up the fae with half-truths and promises of more freedoms—in particular, breaking the barrier between our realms and re-establishing our so-called rights to seize human slaves. Dain was opposed to that, so he stayed—to keep fighting.”
I wasn’t sure what to feel, or what to think. “Dain was a seer. Couldn’t he predict that she’d win?”
“The sight doesn’t work like that. Visions are notoriously fragmented and difficult to read.” Looking gloomy, Hazel braced her chin against a propped hand. “Although saying that, he foresaw what would’ve happened if Morgan discovered your mother was pregnant. It’s what finally convinced Sati. It’s the only reason she left his side.”
She broke off. As if waiting for me to prompt her. As if unclear whether she should continue.
“Tell me all of it. Tell me everything.”
Those words sounded distant, even to my ears.
Hazel sucked in air through clenched teeth. “Morgan would’ve tortured Sati with you inside her to break your father to her will. And once she’d given birth, Morgan would’ve separated you from your mother to raise you as her own, all to see what your parents’ bloodlines had gifted you with. Dain was strong: some might say unyielding.” Her face showed the faintest trace of a smile. “But the sight of that would’ve destroyed him. He would’ve surrendered; given her anything. Then, she’d have got what she really wanted.”
Anger and a burning hatred leeched into my bones, filling every pore. Morgan was a monster. As if I’d needed more proof. “Which was?”
Hazel’s eyes glazed over. Bitter memories? “For Dain to name her as his successor to the High Witch throne. Then, tell her how the barrier between realms worked.”
Something clicked. “Dain discovered how to breach the barrier before Morgan. That’s how my mother made it to the Gauntlet all those years ago, wasn’t it?”
Hazel smiled briefly. “Not quite. Dain was the one who erected the barrier to prevent fae and humans massacring one another. That sneaky bastard designed the gate with a loophole and entrusted the secret to Sati. She never told me what it was, only that he wanted her to use it if he lost to Morgan.” She heaved a sigh weighted with sorrow, a true heartache. “Which, of course, he did.”
Whoa. My hands went up, palms flat. A signal for her to stop. “What are you talking about? The High Priests in the Gauntlet created the barrier.”
“Is that what they’ve been telling you all these years?” Hazel tsked and added, “Then, you’ve been lied to. Dain told those human priests and the royal family of Undover what he intended, but they never lifted a finger to help him.”
My mind fumbled with this new information. “Even if that’s true, Dain would’ve had to be alive centuries ago.”
“Four, to be exact,” Hazel corrected. The corners of her mouth tightened as she held my wide-eyed gaze. “Serena, your sire was a fae. So was your mother. You are a full-bloodied faeling from two ancient bloodlines. The Aldarian light magic now in your veins comes from them. From your ancestors. That’s why your human body can hold it without disintegrating. Because the necklace not only held your magic, but a drop of your fae blood. Both now flow in your veins, thanks to this Auntie.”
Such silence in my mind. Blankness. A hollowed-out bit of air punched out of me. “That’s impossible. Look at me.” I bared my teeth and tapped my shoulder. “No fangs. No wings.”
Hazel had an explanation for that, too. “Both yours and your mother’s bodies were altered during the spell to strip you both. Just another way to avoid detection and protect your true natures in the Gauntlet.”
My mouth was a desert of burning sand. “This isn’t …”
I couldn’t form thoughts. Let alone words.
Fear fired in my gut as another thought came to pass. “What happened to Dain? Did he crack and tell Morgan how to cross? He must’ve done, right?”
Hazel suddenly looked as ancient as she undoubtedly was. Her expression flat and dead, she went on. “No, Dain died on the battlefield soon after your mother left the Crescent. I was with her when … we received the news. Her—our only solace was that Morgan failed to capture and question him.”
My chest swelled with emotion. “But Morgan still found a way to send fae through to the Gauntlet.”
With a tiny nod, Hazel added, “Yes, but not until years after your father’s death.”
My father … “He’s truly dead?”
Hazel’s voice cracked. “We were told Dain faced Morgan on the battlefield and won, but he showed mercy and hesitated for a second too long … Morgan seized upon that weakness and murdered him.”
Thoughts scattering to the four winds, I scanned the room. Maybe for an escape route. Maybe for a distraction. This was too much. It didn’t help that Salazar had started cooing, making the whirlpool of confusion and rage and sorrow feel somewhat absurd.
A croaky clearing of the throat had my gaze swiveling back to Hazel. “There’s something else,” she began. “It doesn’t make up for losing your parents, but it’s something you might be happy to learn.”
I doubted that, but I said, “Go on.”
“Your mother was a widow when she met Dain. She’d been married previously, to a male named Lycon II, King of the Solar Court.”
A part-whimper, part-groan escaped me. “My mother was a queen?”
“For a time. And—”
A murmur of hysterical laughter escaped me. “And?”
Hazel’s eyes shone. “They had a daughter. Sefra, the former queen—”
“I know who that is.” I sounded sharp and brittle, even to my ears.
Hazel seemed to be waiting for my true reaction. I didn’t have one. Numb and exhausted—that was all I could manage. A sister. I had a half-sister.
A memory—a distant echo from my time with Hunter—made me say, “Didn’t she flee her court to avoid fighting Morgan?”
Hazel’s lips thinned. “Most fae believe that, yes.”
A lie. This was just another truth that came to me, whispering to my blood. “That’s not right though, is it.” My voice went up at the end, but it wasn’t a question. Not really.
Hazel gave me a wan smile. “No. But Sati never told me where Sefra went. Only that your sister was searching for a way to defeat Morgan, so that you’d be safe. So that we all would.”
My heart was in my mouth. A sister I’d never met—maybe would never meet—had done that for me. A tear slid down my cheek, leaving an icy trail in its wake. My mother hadn’t even told me she existed. My voice was faint as I said, “Couldn’t she have told me something? Anything?”
I didn’t need to clarify who “she” was.
Hazel’s face slackened with sympathy. “You were only six when Sati passed. She would’ve explained everything once you got older and it came time to return.”